Angel Hoffman got up at the break from the support group and headed to the back table. The standard coffee was there, and a box of donuts. Just as she spied a raspberry filled one, another hand snatched it. She looked up to see a man, cane in hand, taking a bite. "Hey…I didn't see you in group." It was more of an accusation than a question.
"Not in group." He said, starting to walk away. She followed him.
"Who do you think you are?" She limped after him with her own cane. He stopped, turned. Looked at her for a moment. She noticed his sky-blue eyes immediately.
"I work here. Now if you'll excuse me, I have lives to save." There was a mocking tone in his voice and she didn't care for it.
"Yeah, well, those are for the group. I don't care who you are…" She wasn't letting him off so easily.
He spun around, pasted a smile on his face. "Dr. Greg House. Nice to meet you. I'd shake your hand, but I have a donut in it." He heard her sharp intake of breath.
"You're House? The Dr. House? I….I am so sorry I bothered you," she turned to walk away, obviously embarrassed.
"What's wrong with your leg?" He called out to her. She turned slowly, shrugged.
"Pain. That's why I'm in the Chronic Pain support group" She met here a few times a week at Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. Thank god the meetings were free.
"Well, I didn't think you were just here because you were bored. What caused your pain?" He was looking at her, taking her more seriously now.
"Some say fibromyalgia, others say it's in my head." She felt like a germ under a microscope, being examined.
"Make an appointment with my office. I'll take a look." He was done. He started walking away.
"I…I'd love to, but…" She called out to him. He stopped, sighed, annoyed.
"What, your calendar is booked?" This was getting annoying.
"No, it's just that…my insurance won't pay to see you. I…already tried. I know you're the best." She blushed a bit.
He nodded. "Ok. Well if you change your mind, you know where to find me." And he walked off.
The next time Greg House approached the table, the box was empty. He frowned.
"Looking for this?" Angel Hoffman held up a donut, waving it slightly. "Oh I'm sorry, last one." She shrugged and daintily took a nibble of it. It took everything in her not to laugh at the look on his face, just like a child who had his favorite toy taken away. He snorted and walked off without a word.
The following week, Angel was once more waiting for him. He was truly befuddled. There was no box of donuts at all.
"Oh, I'm in charge of snacks today. Carrot stick?" She waggled it at him with a smirk. His blue eyes became a glare.
"Cheeky," he muttered as he left for clinic duty. Maybe he could swipe something from Wilson.
Like a true creature of habit with a dash of hope thrown in, Dr. House ventured by the table one last time the following week. Perhaps that annoying woman would be absent, stricken by some kind of illness one gets from eating vegetables instead of donuts. But no, there she was. He stopped short because he saw quite a different look on her face—not anger, or taunting. He just couldn't identify it.
"Truce?" Angel held out a small box tied with a red ribbon. "There are 2 donuts in here, just for you." He eyed it suspiciously and didn't move forward. She laughed.
"I swear, just donuts, and…." He knew it. There was going to be an and attached.
"Not interested." Yes he was passing up donuts but he didn't think they were worth whatever came with them.
"Drinks. On me. Tonight." House stopped. He didn't see that coming. Slowly he pivoted to face her. She was serious. Seriously attractive. Low cut t-shirt, tight jeans, curl of a smile on her lips.
"What kind of donuts?" He was not giving up that quickly, not after the past few weeks of her taunting.
The smile got bigger "Raspberry- filled." He wanted to inspect them closer—the donuts of course. He peeked inside the box, scrutinizing them. The scent of raspberries was unmistakable.
He nodded. "Ok. Harry's. 6 pm." House walked away, feeling like this was a win-win-win situation.
She stood there and smirked, even as he called back "If you're waiting for a thank you, can't, have a box of donuts in my hand." He heard the ring of her laughter all the way into the exam room.
"You have a date tonight?" Dr. James Wilson asked House incredulously. He slowly reached towards the box of donuts. House slapped his hand away.
"Drinks, Wilson. I only agreed to drinks." House had to admit it was worth it for the donuts.
"How hot is she?" House gave him a look. "Oh do not tell me you just did this for donuts."
"Ok, yes, and she's buying. All my wishes have come true," House mocked feeling a nice buzz from the powdered sugar.
"Well at least one of us has an interesting evening planned," Wilson sighed. "Don't you have clinic duty or something? You're getting powdered sugar all over my office."
"You just have donut envy. Fine, I'll take my baked goods elsewhere. See you later, Wilson."
"Bye, House."